TWITTER CONCOCTIONS (S01, E01) : Visiting In-laws

When you work a job that gives you enough money to be considered broke; as most Nigerians currently do, you will need timely distractions to dilute the rigours of a hard life as you look to breakaway; thus, Twitter - - a social medium that houses an unhealthy amount of braggadocio, indignation and ostensibility. In order to keep the anger, the debate and the fun alive; wild, imagined scenarios are cooked and tweeted. So we jump on it, not because we don’t know most of the stories are bullshit, but because (please insert your own reason here...)

Sha, I’m an Uncle; a Nigerian euphemism for teacher, and since we just vacated, I have some extra time on my hands. Plus, I am always, always, slightly inebriated (residual highness, mostly!), so I’m doing this. 

There have been two such debates in the past seven weeks. The first asked what you would do if you visit your woman’s house for the first time and saw her dad washing car. Ba? They added “...sweating profusely in the sun” to ramp up the drama. The second and most recent one is a thread about a guy who went to his woman’s house for the first time and after finishing his meal, gestured to his girlfriend to come clear the dishes. The thread-weaver said the girl’s folks think he will probably not make a good and respectful husband.
Those two topics trended and there was a wonderfully diverse range of responses. Me? I must say my own too.

Part One: To wash car or Not?
I wouldn’t be typing a lie when I say that some older Nigerians think respect is a 1-D concept. They consistently turn up their noses at the opinions of younger folks and have seemingly adopted the mindset that you must be accorded with subtle disregard UNTIL you convince them otherwise; guilty until proven innocent, as it were.

Now, take the pre-existing mindset described in the paragraph above, add the fact that any sane parent will be wary of his daughter bringing home an ungood person who will potentially end up taking the said daughter away; and you have a weird mix of studious scepticism and cautious optimism. I mean, save for myself and a few others, men tend to, mostly, be scum.

So, anyone going to a girl’s house to meet her folks will be dressed good and already thought about how to answer the ‘where are you from’, what do you do’ questions. However, when confronted with an impromptu scenario like seeing her father toiling under hot sun, the father might think what you do in such circumstance is a test of your character.

Part Two: To carry plate or not?
Ba? I have always had rich people problems. Drink a different water to the one I’m used to like this? I will have diarrhoea.
Grass touches me? My skin will start swelling.
Do small manual labour? Blisters abound.
I hope these are harbingers of a monied future. For now, let me fictionalize that guy’s circumstance:

“Not a million years ago, in 300level Paleontology class, our lecturer had just returned from an academic sojourn in France and realized that A is not for God and B is not for himself after seeing that being a good lecturer and a sadist ought to be mutually exclusive. He changed his teaching methods too and this entailed students making presentations. I prepared my slide, but when it was my turn, I had this embarrassing erection that just wouldn’t go down. I remember I wore a tight, cream-coloured chinos. Just before he called my name, I told him someone should go before me that I needed a couple of minutes to correct some things. He was visibly quizzical, but he agreed to my request.”

“Now that I’ve written this long story, I have to extrapolate to my current situation. That thread saddened me when I saw it. I am in my late twenties and seriousness was never my strong suit. My relationships with my women were always mechanical and once shit was past the ‘oya come over, I’m horny’ phase, I would quit the relationship. Then I met Ada and for the first time in my life, my instinct was NOT to scheme my way into her pants but to commit to her unreservedly.
I was even the one that brought up meeting her folks and all that. The day came and I was welcomed with wide smiles and numerous questions. The mother insisted on feeding me and I accepted. Halfway through my porridge, I felt that bastard erection coming up again - - I always have an erection when I’m nervous. I was hoping to make a good impression and all that but this erection wouldn’t let me prosper."

 "It was then I realized I should’ve worn one of the boxers I was used to. The one I had on was new and short and my shirt was tucked in. When I had but two morsels left on my plate, I started winking at my woman to help me out when I was done. She beamed at me from across the table as if telling me ‘you’re doing okay honey.’ I prayed for my mother’s head to help me out.
She didn’t.
Of course, I knew I should offer to take my dish to the kitchen but my erection was by then, still erect. So, right there under the bright lights at their dining table, I signalled to Ada to clear the dishes - - and at that moment, I knew I’d fucked up.”

VERDICT: Part one
Since I am not entirely stupid, I would not expect backslapping and high-fiving from the man. That said, it would be strange seeing my woman’s father washing car under scorching sun when he knows his daughter is bringing me over for informal introductions. However, unlike some opinions on twitter, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing. An old man can have a hobby.

I’m speaking for myself here, but what would it look like greeting the man and heading into his sitting room to wait while he toils at his car washing? Makes no sense! After greeting the man, I’m rolling up my sleeves and grabbing a bucket.
As men, we have to learn that projection is part of scheming.
And scheming is politics.
And politics is everything.

If the man deals in cements and you see some people offloading cement and you only weigh a paltry 66kg, please mind yourself; even if you weigh 200kg. It might not look like it at the time, but nobody wants a moron or a slave as a son-in-law. Don’t try too hard; else they will know you’re pretending. Your goal in life is not to impress, but I’m sure your goal is not to disappoint either. Your goal is to achieve your goal (sorry). And your goal is to get your woman by NOT fucking up with her folks.

Do proper. Do well. Though you might gaffe on one or two things due to nerves, you’ll come through unscathed and they will see how lucky their daughter will be. 

VERDICT: Part two
Not much to do here. Just rewrite that letter with less colourful language and more candour and take it to the man yourself. An erection is not a shameful thing. Emphasize to the man that your biology is fucked up and you trying oh so hard to make a good impression led to your nervousness and ensuing erection.

They will see you are not usually an incorrect person.

@Captaincue (just do well)

SOME UNHERALDED NIGERIAN ALHAJIS

TITLES and TAGS. We absolutely love them in this part of the world. Its not an elitist syndrome too. I mean, have you ever heard the chairman of the association of charcoal sellers being called anything other than 'chairman'? Azzin, call that person his name accompanied by an ordinary mister and countenance will change. In fact, I had a lecturer who struggled to earn his Ph.D.   A week after he eventually did, I had to sign something with him and it so happened that I called him Mr Adedoyin. LOL. Baba launched a tirade of how he had noticed I was always red-eyed, stone-faced and how “you cannot tell me you are not a cultist.”  That he had taught at #KwaraPoly and consequently met boys badder than I was; and I was going to carry some courses if I ever disrespected him by calling him Mr again.

Nawa o.
Shey because I forgot to call you your title means you’re no longer it ni?

But I won’t focus on his sadistic tendencies. Instead, I will attempt to discuss what is arguably the most popular tag in Nigeria; ALHAJI. As you must know, Hajj is the obligatory fifth, last but not least pillar of Islam. Hajj is not wholly mandated because of its financial demands. That said, it is something every Muslim must aspire to. According to Islamic stipulations ba, even though its obligatory, one must not think about it unless and until you’re in rude health physically, spiritually and financially. So, you should go on the pilgrimage when you’ve settled debt, bills, rent, allowances and child support. By dint of Islamic law, Hajj is not for the poor. As such, it is, on a very basic level, an indicator of your affluence.

ALHAJI is an honorific title bestowed on one who has been a pilgrim to Mecca and because this is an obligatory pillar of Islam, it is sometimes seen as one of the highest achievements of an adult Muslim because one has found a way to uphold all 5 pillars – which is no mean feat. Consequently, even if you have other titles like chief or doctor or captain or professor, some still prefer alhaji as the superseding title.

You know how stereotyped military officers are rarely associated with subtlety, conviviality, eloquence and intelligence; AND associated with aloofness, brute & misanthrope instead? In a similar vein, I believe most Alhajis are ONLY exclusively associated with a high level of spiritual supremacy – throwing into utter insignificance all they have done in other non-spiritual phases of their lives.

So, for the next ten weeks (or until I get bored), I will create a hipster, serialized list of Alhajis in Nigeria’s history – contemporary and otherwise, that we should know more about. Please note that this list does not celebrate goodness, it will just throw into sharp relief aspects, achievements and deeds of the lives of some Alhajis that were somewhat obscure. When you see some unscrupulous elements in there, do not abuse my mother. She’s innocent in all this.
People who have Universities named after them are just not hipster enough to make this list (sorry Alhaji Ahmadu Bello University).

This series is inspired by the death of Alhaji Maitama Sule, whose name rang a bell, but I never appreciated the sheer extent of his might and I had always thought of him as just another Alhaji. This list will right some of those wrongs. It is only proper that we start with him.

Watch this space!

@Captaincue

AFTER THE BREAST AND THE BEARD (FGCI '07 REUNIOIN)

There is an existential tension between young chaps and some older folks. A lot of the latter would consistently strongly suggest that general decadence came with millennials – especially with the advent and ensuing pervasion of gadgets and accompanying apps and social media. An equal lot of the former will, predictably, suggest atrocities have always been this bad – it just had less publicity. I mean, you couldn’t do wire fraud when the internet wasn’t even here, could you? Or make sex tapes without digital gadgets? Anyway, as ever, the answer lies in the grey area. Pitch two random persons from these opposite strata and this frankly pointless argument could stretch on forever. Nobody wants that.


So, it is with delight that I got wind of plans by the Federal Government College Ilorin (FGCI) 2007 set to converge in Ilorin and organize a three-pronged event to commemorate 10 years of their graduation. The first part, which took place on the 7th of July, was a relaxed meeting of individuals at Succoth garden for recreational drinks and wanton abuse of front camera of phones. My dear friend being the chairman of the organizing committee, I (an upcoming turn-up artiste) was present for the small chops. Being the only non-FGCI alumnus there was not awkward at all; as I had met some of them because I schooled in Ilorin too. Saturday started with a yoga session at the KIPDC executive hotel before convergence at Kwara hotels and subsequent movement to school.


10 years! About 8 women came with their babies. Not to be outdone by their female counterparts, the guys also came with beer bellies and full beard.  They were meritoriously welcomed by the Principal; the amiable Mrs. Okpaleke, the Vice principals, teaching, as well as non-teaching staff and hundreds of teeming students. At the commissioning of the furniture to equip the laboratories, the Principal decried the decline in the standards of infrastructure in Unity schools, before copiously lauding the effort of the 2007 set of FGCI towards giving back to their alma mater. To create balance, the ex-students thought it wise to completely rework the plumbing at the food and nutrition laboratory; this made water flow for the first time in 20 years. This phase was followed by the touring of the school as the ex-students jived, reminisced and fraternized with students. Souvenirs in form of jotters and stickers were shared and gifts were given to the principal and her deputies. Ex-students had a late lunch with performing artistes and comedians of the school later in the evening.


Preceding that, a few men without potbellies, and some with, played the current school team. The result was a thrilling 3-3 draw. Backs were patted, photos were taken, lost friendships were rekindled, memories were refreshed and contacts were re-established. In the evening, a modest dinner was enjoyed at the Africa People’s Hall at GRA before an almighty turn-up at the after party which held at #ClubSpartacus with B-Red performing.
From my vantage point, one of the many commendable points of the event was the use and consequent promotion of the crafts of individuals from the ’07 set. These range from the cook, the smallchops lady, the medical personnel (incase of medical contingencies), security operatives, legal advisers, logistic providers, the master of ceremony to the photographer and video guy (with drones, I kid you not!). The evolution is astonishing. The meek ones have come out of their shells. The skinny ones have filled up the spaces. Even the perverted ones are now happily married and off the market.


So. Despite the inertia and the understandable skepticism that greeted the idea at inception, and the funding issues; the raw, green boys and girls have undergone full development -- of the physical sort and otherwise. When some pesky, old people try to bait us with pernicious forecasts and destructive aspersions, the 2007 set of FGCI have set the tone. Be well rounded.
Better yourself.
Progress.
Flourish.
Let your potential manifest.
Do your bit where/when-ever you can. Especially to institutions that have forged you.
To the 2007 set of the Federal College, Ilorin; we say bravo!!!!

 ----CAPTAINCUE (...is a freelance writer taking on gigs for unridiculous money. Send me a direct message on Twitter @Captaincue or send me a mail with your writing needs at kaptaincue@gmail.com)

10 UNWRITTEN LAWS OF THE NIGERIAN CONSTITUTION

Yes, they’re not written, but we still live by these laws in my country and that IS the essence of this list. Its part constitution and part tradition. A constradition if you will, and I'm not even sorry.
 

10) EAT INDOMIE WITH EGG: There are times when I think that should my alma mater demand their certificate, it would probably be the right call. On one of such occasions, I went to a shop in Ilorin and told the lady: “mo fe ra tin-tomato.” She asked: “shey alagolo, abi oni-satchet?”

I remember I replied with oni-satchet. (I know & I’m sorry). That also happens when I want to buy antiseptic liquids and I just claim to want to buy ‘Dettol’; to which the shop-owner asks which brand.

All I’m saying is, to some Nigerians like myself, we take the name of an overwhelmingly popular brand and use it to represent a demographic of products. Indomie is the archetype. So, when I use indomie here, I mean noodles. You are not expected to go to a meat shop just because you want to prepare indomie, so we opt for Nigeria’s (un)official fast-food. Thus, indomie+egg. This might be due to the fact that the time an egg takes to fry/boil is close to that which you’ll use in cooking your indomie. Or it could just be somewhere in the Nigerian constitution. Those things are never clear anyway.

9) #WeThankGod: I recently typed to a dear friend; “a good morning?” and I got a nondescript “good morning”. I launched into a Gandalf-style lecture about good mornings. When some of us say words, we actually, intentionally used those words. When I ask ‘how are you’, it’s a question, not a greeting. I ask, fully expecting an honest appraisal of how you are. Cold? Enervated? Happy? Horny? To some of us, ‘fine’ is only the second worst way you can answer the how inquest.

The worst response of the average Nigerian to any ‘how’ question, is, of course, #WeThankGod. How was your test?

How was the interview?

How is the gonorrhea treatment going?

Shey you are making sales?

Shey profit is biting market?

All these questions, and more, will likely prompt a #WeThankGod response from an average Nigerian. Is there a distinct lack of effort in our attitudes towards answering questions? Has the country so frustrated us that we now see the art of making conversations as a waste of time. Is it to hide how much sales/money you’re making? See ehn. We all thank God, but when I ask you something, tell me something. Don’t thank God. Are you mad?

8) WHEN DID YOU START WATCHING BALL?: There was this ridiculous tweet about DSTV’s exact endgame when advertising DSTV on DSTV to those who already own DSTV; oblivious of the fact that some DSTV un-owners go to viewing centres to watch football matches, select Olympic events, UCL draws and amusingly, recently, boxing & wrestling brawls. Football is the essence of viewing centres in Nigeria, and just like any place where people converge, you are bound to meet stupid, illogical people. 

 Old, stupid, illogical people who are so self-absorbed they don’t see the flaw of their own arguments. We’ll be talking ball o, debating a controversial refereeing decision and just because you’re two decades older, you’ll ignore the point I raised and say “when did you start watching ball”  

So I plan to say; “If I was older in 1998, you think I won’t have watched the World Cup in France? Assuming I make it to 70, I would have been watching this game for upwards of 5decades. But someone like you, with this your bald head, horrible mindset and level of reasoning at this age will not live long enough to watch football into your fifties. You’ll soon die.”

But I stop short of saying that. Because home-training. And one shouldn’t take such matters and people seriously. I just plug in my earpieces and watch the screen instead.

7) HANDING PEOPLE OVER TO GOD: There’s hardly any joy in the land and you see people franking their faces everywhere. In a land where only a few have too many, intimidation ensues. And poverty humbles you. I mean, humility might not be part of your innate personality, but you sha can’t be pressing pompous, obnoxious horns like SUV owners when riding a bicycle. Whereas that lot will honk and get a cheery wave from the gateman, you will wheel your bicycle to the pedestrian gate and knuck with your knockles. You will know that even poor people hate poor people when, by instinct, the GM will come with a derisive sneer. You will be forced to say ‘good morning’ even if you don’t exactly have behaviour. Q.E.D, poverty humbles you. But that’s besides the point.

In most scenarios in this our Nigeria (and most anywhere to be honest), with money, clout and the right kind of connect, the ‘system’ is always ripe for manipulation. So, when the average Nigerian has a run-in with some other person (s)he will visualize the legal fees of going to court, the dickishness of the culprit (who doesn’t even have to be rich), the life expectancy of our country and the clamour of amebo passersby and career pacifiers who usually take the “haba, shebi they have begged you stance”, you WILL be tempted to free the matter and let God handle the provocateur. Because you just don’t want wahala. Fela has a song for you: ‘Sorrow, Tears & Blood.’ 

He understands you people more than I ever will.

6) MAN SHOULD BE THE TOASTER: Okay. I had to sneak this in because I’m a boy at an age where I’m ripe for a fling with 21 year-old beauty, game for a symbiotic partnership with a sugar-aunty or a serious, actual relationship with an equally ambitious and half-decent lady. By God, I want to say that I opt for the latter as updating ‘body count’ is no longer the priority after a while. But it wasn’t always this easy. Look, I went to science class in SS1 because of a girl I never told about my feelings. Man has struggled. The first time I tried to open my mouth to woo a woman, I was 14 and that was when I learnt that ‘he doesn’t have the stomach for it’ has literal connotations. My palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy...

These days, thankfully, it requires much less effort and its probably rooted in tradition and faux-morality that a man ought to be the one to initiate shot shooting. Even Khadijah shot shot. If you see someone you like, regardless of what’s between your legs, you should let the fellow know. There’s just no time. Fire shots, girl!

5) REMOVE BATTERY WHEN ANYTHING HAPPENS TO YOUR PHONE: Agreed, a lot of poor movies are out there, but I have little to no love for people who don’t watch movies. There’s sooooo much knowledge condensed into those things. In The Dark Knight, Heath Ledger (Joker) said to Harvey Dent:

“Do I really like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it...”

Exactly! You know when your phone malfunctions and you instinctively open it and remove the battery? What is your plan exactly? You see your life?

4) RICH PEOPLE CANNOT CRITICIZE POOR ONES: I wrote something different for this one, but as God and poor planning would have it, the Lagos rains and consequent flooding of the monied Island area happened. On the online, where it all happens, you can see & perceive both implicit and explicit messages of delight from poorer people. Remember that Chris Rock joke about how poor people feel they can wish rich folks evil, but how society frowns on rich folks doing the same?

“You rich bastard! I hope your yacht hits an iceberg in the summer. I hope your Picasso falls off the wall and kills your mother. You fucking rich bastard”

Now just imagine a rich bastard driving through and on seeing a boli woman thinking; “you poor wretch. I hope the coal spills and burns your feet and your kids contact cholera and...”. Imagine the ‘rich bastard’ saying these sickening thoughts out loud (like some poor people tend to do). Its not cool and we need to realize that even when a rich bastard loses his wealth, that won’t automatically make us take his place.

3) FEEL THAT RICH KIDS ARE DUMB: In #FriendsWithBenefit, Mila Kunis asked:

“You know, why don’t they make a movie about what happens after the big kiss?”

Timberlake replied; “They do. Its called porn”

Boom! As clear as it might seem in retrospect, unless some things are expressly told to you, you won’t figure them out. Now, as a card-carrying member of the poor society, I have come to realize that whilst poverty certainly fires up your desires to breakaway, it conversely has the power to destroy dreams. Some of us seem to have romanticized being poor. I would just like to state for the record that there’s no nobility in poverty. Yes, things might come easier to rich kids, but to just think that you’re wiser by virtue of your humble background ALONE, is a fallacy. I think.

Come sef, if you work hard, and providence allows your hustle to manifest AND you blow, will your kids be dumb? If you’re saying no, why do you currently think the average rich kid is dumber than you? Don’t get me angry o. Just listen to the rhetoric.

2) DON’T GIVE PEOPLE MONEY, BUY THEM BEER INSTEAD: Phew. I hate being poor. I abhor being unable to afford things. You know, on the intro of ‘It ain’t personal’, Jay-Z rightly quipped:

“..you never know who your true friends are until you both got a little bit of money. I mean, when y’all both broke, then there’s no strain on the relationship; Y’ALL BOTH BROKE! And if you got money and he ain’t got no paper, he still needs you, so you’ll never know how he really feel about you. When y’all both got some money, you’ll see!!”

I have friends who are better off financially and I know money & women have scattered more guy friendships than every other factor combined. So if I’m in dire need of money, I’ll ask for a loan and pay back asap. Its not my money, I don’t care how you spend it. But, pursuant to number 4 above, I see why some poor people call y’all rich bastards. I mean, you know I’m financially handicapped, yet you don’t offer me money – but can buy me beer and liquor every single, fucking day.

On occasion, if pushed to the limit, I’ll ask for the beer gift to be monetized, but I won’t make it a running theme. Don’t get me wrong o, I’ll still come out and drink your beer, I’m just surprised you can’t give the money instead. That said, some poor people make it decidedly difficult to give them money, so these richer people kuku avoid it altogether. Guys, these people have responsibility too! You give a poor person N10k and he’ll probably think; “..but she makes N400k a month. Is that all I’m worth?”

Look, just keep buying me beer & plates of assorted if that’s your purpose in my life. When I blow too, we might have to revisit the dynamics of our friendship. You rich bastard!

1) BUY BREAD AFTER A JOURNEY: The number one spot is none other than the time-tested and most noble of our constraditions. Any journey longer than Enugu to Nsukka (55mins or so), you must buy bread for those you’ll meet at your destination. Unless you’re coming from the abroad; in which case, you should still buy bread at the junction. We don’t care about the dollars you have been sending, you can’t just come back and start breaking rules.

 I’m surprised you had to make me write this one.

--CAPTAINCUE (...is a freelance writer taking on gigs for unridiculous money. Send me a direct message on Twitter @Captaincue or send me a mail with your writing needs at kaptaincue@gmail.com)

Firing Cylinders

I used to be prolific. Regularly rolling out content like no man's business. And then I wasn't anymore. Laziness? That could be it, although I'd rather hope not. 'Lack of focus' is a damning indictment of a person's person and it could also be true, but once again, I'd rather hope not. So let's put breast in each other's mouths and say my lack of production was because I was very particular about correctitude and publishing stuff that makes complete sense. Let's say that has seen my output dwindle alarmingly.

About 10months ago, I traveled for an interview and lost my phone in a danfo; along with my contacts, videos & photos. Painful as hell. I just wish I had backed them the fuck up. That applies to my writings as well. Oftentimes, I start writing when I get an idea, but because the thoughts are somewhat controversial, or the ideas had refused to completely crystallize, I don't finish it. Now I realize that a senseless prose is still prose, its just senseless. And one needs to back up original ideas by publishing them.

I think, sometimes, you don't have to find an essence, you ought to just write and hope someone makes a meaning of it. Not unlike abstract paintings; there's meaning hidden underneath all that nonsense. Now, doing that will occasionally blur the already faded lines of political correctness and might paint a vivid picture of you that you want outchea. BUT, after a hundred published musings on the internet, my creative compass needs to change direction.

Bill Clinton amusingly said of his deposition during the Lewinsky scandal:

"It depends upon what the meaning of the word 'is' means. If 'is' means is, and never has been, that's one thing. If it means, there is none, that was a completely true statement"

So, inspired by Mr. Clinton and to whom it may concern; from this point onwards, and for future plausible deniability due to the drastically altered direction I'm steering this thing, when I use I, I might not mean me. That is, when I write about scenarios that involve what some could term 'immoral', we can safely assume its a work of fiction.

Hope this gets more wind in my sails. We'll see.

CAPTAINCUE (...is a freelance writer taking on gigs for unridiculous money. Send me a direct message on Twitter @Captaincue or send me a mail with your writing needs at kaptaincue@gmail.com)